A Tale of Two Airships (Take to the Skies Book 2) (27 page)

The sole of my boot collided with the side of his head a second later, reverberations shaking up my shins.

I didn’t need a knife for this.

He rose on his knees again, coughing up blood as he tried to push himself forward.

No mercy. My leg snapped out, and the sole of my weathered boot slammed into his throat. My thigh twinged in response, but the pain was worth it. His windpipe snapped, and a final wheeze scraped from his throat. Red pools formed around him at a rapid pace.

Important things first, I reached to his hip and plucked Matilda from his holster. The old, familiar weight settled onto my side, now that my girl returned to me. 

Though their leader lay in pieces on the ground, drowning in his own blood, violence exploded all around me. Gypsies attacked gypsies, mercenaries fired at will, and the flash of blades caught my eyes in every direction. This needed to end and fast. We’d lost too many already, and the longer this skirmish stretched out, the more folks we’d continue to lose. My right hand seared with pain, and my muscles as a whole pulsed with a fierce sort of reminder of how far I’d pushed my body.

A fist flew right by my ear, reflexes honed by the best saving me. A Red Oak mercenary was responsible, her eyes glazed with fury and her hands balled into effective weapons.

“Your leader’s dead,” I spat, dodging the next blow she aimed. While Darren had been a skilled opponent, this broad’s strokes were sloppy and her moves predictable. I could do this dance all day without lifting a finger. Her glance confirmed my words, and she paled. We’d stolen the day here, and I knew mercenaries. The one thing they all lacked at their core and what forever marked them a different breed from me and mine was loyalty.

“Leave now, and I’ll let you live.” I looked her straight in the eyes. She scanned over the carnage, calculating. “Unlike you lot, I’m the honorable type. When I give my word, I mean it.” That was all it took. She maneuvered past me and burst for the throng of oaks, racing as fast as her legs carried her. Mercenaries wouldn’t stick around and die for a man they owed no loyalty to. Fear was a fickle mistress, because right now, I wielded her power over them.

“Listen up,” my voice bellowed over the clang of weapons and the bark of gunfire, drawing more than a couple stares. “Our people are in the trees, and they won’t hesitate to shoot you down. Your leader is dead, and anyone who stays will follow him. I’ll give you to the count of five—get the hell out of here and you live. Stay and you die.”

The forest quieted to a hush as the entire group of mercenaries processed the same calculations as the girl who’d darted away. It wasn’t even a gamble. Over the past couple years, I’d become so familiar with mercenaries it made me ill.

“One,” my voice boomed through the silence. A couple standing by the fringes dashed away at once, not waiting to see what the others would do.

“Two,” I continued, all fighting simmering to a standstill. Curls of smoke floated through the air, dagger hands hesitating rather than unleashing their weaponry. The enemies were assessing and fast, because with my count dwindling, their time was short.

“Three.” At the final count, more splintered off. Boots kicked up mud, and weapons flashed as pistols returned to holsters and daggers to their sheathes. Once their brethren ran, the remaining traitors and mercenaries followed suit—after all, no one fought for anyone but themselves, and we’d conquered the odds. Folks darted in every direction as they sought sanctuary in the woods or pursued a different avenue of escape. My gaze skated throughout the crowd, waiting for the fool to turn around and attempt to fight. However, the scatter turned fast, furious, and efficient, as only mercenary types could accomplish. By the time I’d made it to five, they’d all cleared out and raced through the woods, away from camp.

Facing the gypsies in the trees, the ones on ground, and my brilliant crew, I lifted my good hand in the air.

“That’s how you deal with filthy mercenaries,” my voice roared through the air. Cheers followed, hoots, and hollers as everyone exploded with the incendiary joy traveling through our ragged group. I breathed in the smoke in the air and the ragged scent of blood, all part of the journey, but beyond that, I caught the crispness of the forest and the heavy weight of our resounding relief as it threaded through the breezes, coming to clear away the tragedies of the night.

As I’d said a thousand times before and would continue to prove until the fated bullet claimed me—we defended ours.

Chapter Thirty

The following morning, I peeled myself from the sickbay cot and made my way to the exit, ready to reunite with our missing crew members at long last. I brushed past the cool canvas of the tent and walked into the blistering sunlight of this early day. The wounds I’d sustained yesterday delivered the pain in one cruel package today as I forced those first steps outside, but despite the burning in my muscles and the ache in my bones, I continued moving anyway.

I’d been waiting to see Adelle and Seth’s faces from the moment I’d stomped my way into camp, so to say I was eager underestimated the lengths I’d gone to get them back. When we’d first landed in the prison, I’d hoped we’d spot familiar faces in an adjoining cell, but the gypsies had stowed them away in another tent. I sucked in a breath of the crisp, clear air and began my trek across the littered hull of a campground.

Last night most of us had been too woozy to stand, and Edwin had even tromped down from the Desire to help stitch us up. He’d wrapped my wrist in a plasto-cast with the promise if I stopped hurling myself into such senseless danger it might heal. Geoff and I had lain in the cot, mumbling smart ass remarks that made less and less sense as the hours rolled by until sleep claimed us both. Both of us had been so bruised and battered we’d simply basked in our survival. 

Unfortunately the same couldn’t be said for Cobb. As I walked along to the canary yellow tent on the far side of the clearing, my heart ached. I kicked at the scattering of stones on the ground in my path, and they shot to the sky in every direction. He’d died with a gun in his hand as one of mine should. The second the bullet pierced his chest, I’d known his prognosis, but I’d bluffed my way through regardless. After all, a captain offered hope even if the crew couldn’t find it for themselves.

Spade gone, Cobb as well—their losses would be felt every time I glanced to the helm, expecting to see Spade there, or out amidst the crew, searching for Cobb’s familiar face. Every time we lost one of our own, it nicked my heart all over again, and I bled.

“Time to reunite with your folks, yes?” The older gypsy man who’d confronted me in the woods intercepted my path. Last night after all the chaos simmered down, I’d discovered his name was Nadir. “I’ll guide you there.” He walked alongside me towards the tent. While I only recalled a couple names along the way, after seeing Isabella’s old gypsy clan fight, I now understood why she spoke of her kind with such pride.

“So you’ll accept the heirloom as a token of our partnership, yes?” I gave him the nudge. We’d discussed the heirloom for a brief second last night with more promise of discussion in the morning.

“Will Isabella be claiming her place in our clan?” Nadir asked, glancing my way.

“God, I hope not,” I blurted out before I could help myself. Great diplomacy, there.

He let out a laugh that resounded through the heavy air. “You’ve returned an important artifact to our people and defended us in our time of need. That would be enough to silence any of the naysayers.”

I exhaled a sigh of relief. After the intense list of enemies we’d built, we could use any allies we could get.

Isabella approached, stopping in her stroll to wave me over. “Bea, you look like hell on earth. Didn’t you take any time to freshen up?” She asked with a half-smile on her lips. Of course, like always she’d painted her lips and tamed her hair despite the fact we spent yesterday battling for our lives. Though she’d lost a lot in this fight, the woman was as incorrigible as the rest of us, unwilling to let grief claim her for too long.

I snorted. “You try doing that with one hand. I’ll take a shower once we’re back at the Desire.”

Her smile faltered. My stomach sank—I knew what came next. My tongue dried, sticking to my mouth, and for once I failed to come up with anything witty in return. After everything we’d been through since the gypsies first contacted her, I couldn’t shake the dread I’d be losing another familiar face aboard my vessel. After the losses we’d suffered and how much change had ravaged the crew, more would keelhaul me over.  

“I can’t leave yet,” she murmured, glancing to Nadir with an understanding. “They have so much to rebuild before they’re ready to take to the skies again, back to the old ways. And as my great-grandfather was the elder before Anton, it’s my responsibility to elect the new clan leader. If I abandon them now, it’s like spitting at Scaara’s sacrifice.”

My chest squeezed, and my brain refused to process what she’d said. I couldn’t lose her. Not after all we’d been through and what we’d lost so far. The ship would be too foreign, too different, and when I returned, the empty rooms would haunt me. The words wouldn’t come to my lips though, and the girl in me who’d been abandoned one too many times threatened to push back. Barbed words rose to my lips, but I swallowed them.

She smacked me upside the head. “You idiot!”

“Oww,” I whined, placing my palm on my tender scalp. “You heathen.”

“Do you actually think I’m leaving the Desire?” A grin rose to her rose red lips as she met my eyes. By the Gods, the woman knew me too well.

“To be fair, you’re awfully dramatic.” I pushed through my nerves and cracked a smile.

Isabella rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about some shore time while I help my old family heal. If you don’t come and pick me up in a couple months, I’m not responsible for what happens to the rest of this clan. Besides, Geoff needs reprieve from babysitting you once in awhile. You run the poor boy ragged.” 

Warmth heated my chest, and I ignored the relief pricking my eyes. Instead, I slung an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight, aching ribs of mine be damned. With so much in flux, I couldn’t afford to lose Isabella—she was one of the few left who’d call me on my shit. “You mean I’ll get some blessed peace for once from you and your gypsy problems? Take all the vacation you need,” I teased.

Nadir made an attempt at sharpening his blade on a whetstone while watching our interactions, an amused smile playing on his lips. “And you know you have a friend in our clan,” he mentioned. “We owe you a debt that can’t be repaid. After the cowardice we displayed, we didn’t deserve our home and our clan back, and yet you and yours fought for us fiercer than anyone we’ve ever met.”

“Don’t make promises you’re not willing to keep,” I said, half-joking. “The lot of us made a major enemy out of Andreas Otthman.”

“You’re going to see Adelle and Seth, right?” Isabella asked, curiosity reflecting in her dark eyes. She placed a hand on her hip. “I’m joining you. We spent all our time chasing them down, so it’s about time for a reunion.”

“How about a reunion with Julian?” I joked.

She let out a caustic sigh. “The bastard is nowhere to be found. Who wants to place bets on him being Otthmann’s crony?”

“Too easy.” I tried to roll my shoulders and cringed at the following sharp, shooting pain.

Geoff jogged behind me, waving for us to stop. “You better not head to see Seth and Adelle without me,” he called out as he caught up. His hair had grown more tousled than ever after yesterday, and several spots under his shirt bulged where he’d been bandaged. Geoff’s shoulders heaved with exertion, more from the injuries he’d sustained than any exhaustion due to running.

“Come on, boy-o, don’t show the rest how sad and weak you are. Like a newborn kitten.” I jabbed him in the side, accidentally between the ribs.

He grimaced and swatted at me. “Thanks, doll. I can always count on you to protect my manly ego.”

“Honed in fire, darling.” With a smirk, I sashayed in front of him, taking the lead as we trekked over the pebbles and detritus strewn ground.

Before I could blink though, a familiar figure burst from the flaps of the tent. Her hair hung down her back in a long braid, and though she still wore the tan chemise and chestnut skirt I’d lent her the last time we spoke, Adelle raced up to us, her eyes sparkling and a smile on her face beaming pure sunshine. I opened my arms as she slammed into my chest, wrapping her frail arms around my waist and squeezing with a ferocity I hadn’t expected. My ribs protested, but I gritted my teeth and hugged back, ignoring the pain of my extensive injuries.

“Come on, where’s my hug,” Isabella leaned down to wrap her arms around the girl, passing me a wink. With my reprieve, I sucked in deep breaths to fill my lungs back up.

“Well now, of course the grumpy one’s lurking,” I said as I continued striding towards the tent.

“Bea, wait.” Adelle called to me in a tone of voice that stopped me in my steps. Slowly, I turned around to meet her serious face as she tried to blink away the glassiness in her eyes, and I fought the sinking in my chest. We’d traveled across a country I hated, sailed far through the skies, and fought blade and barrel alike to save these guys. At this point, I needed a win. I needed to believe so badly we could save the day and all would be right in the world. That we wouldn’t keep disappearing under the hand of Andreas Otthman until the deck of the Desire resembled a ship of the damned.

Above, the sun glittered and a clear blue sky whispered promises in my ears but confronted with the dread rising in my chest, none of it registered. I could be standing waist deep in an ice-cold pool for all I felt against this numbing tide. Geoff waited at one side and Isabella at the other, yet in lieu of this weight I knew would drop, I couldn’t have stood more alone. Sucking in a shaky breath, I met Adelle’s troubled gaze.

“What’s up?” I asked, not moving from where I stood. My hands balled into fists as I prepared for the worst. Steeled myself for an eventuality I’d understood the day my captain died.

Adelle snuck beside me with silent steps before slipping a letter into my hand. “He’s gone. Wouldn’t tell me why, or anything, but I-I don’t think he’s dead,” she stumbled on the words. Her bottom lip quivered, but the girl held strong as she clasped her hands behind her back. “But he asked me to give this to you. Said you’d understand.”

My fingers fumbled with the sheet she passed my way. I wasn’t going to lie, my stomach had already dropped floor level in anticipation of the contents.

“
Beatrice,

Before you begin worrying—I’m not dead. Turns out my past has caught up with me, and Otthman offered me a place at his side in exchange for the Desire and crew’s safety. Not even a decision, though if you don’t keep diligent on that girl, she’s liable to bust a tank—the seams have been loose lately.

Don’t get some fool notion in your head to come and find me. I chose my path.

--Seth.”

My chest squeezed hard at the sight of his simple words, and I sucked a ragged breath in. More words on the note than the ass had said to me in the past year. If I closed my eyes, I could hear him telling me what he thought in that dry tone of his, same way he always did. I took one shuddering breath, and then another, before the shock rolled past me and the rage remained. Of course the idiot would make the exchange—his life for that of the crew. However, if he thought I’d sit down and buff my nails the whole while, he had another thing coming.

Fury burned a molten core in my chest. Andreas Otthman had stolen far too much from me. My Captain. My helmsman. He’d ruined friendships, turned Morlocks and redcoats alike towards us, and held my crew under constant siege. He’d targeted my home. This cursed, monster of a man was responsible for so many deaths, and now he had my best mechanic in his grips. Some part of Seth had to understand leaving me this letter gave me the exact ammunition I needed to turn over ocean and sky until I snatched him back. Because that’s the exact sort of fool notion that cropped into my head the moment I read those words.

“Bea, where’s Seth? What happened?” Isabella asked.

My hand stroked Matilda’s grip, and my words came out in a harsh growl.

“Andreas Otthman is going to die.”